Walking Dead 1. Chapter 1

Nineteen years have passed. Judith is now nineteen years old, and Carl is thirty-one. Rick is sixty-one years old, and has taken things easy now that age has caught up with him. Daryl is sixty-six years old, and has to take things even easier because his joints aren't as good as they were twenty or so years ago. The rest of their group had split up due to complications from a herd of Walkers.

Back when Carl was still twelve, and Judith couldn't walk, the group was split. Carl had chosen an abandoned hotel to stay in. They had to battle their way through the first two floors. After a while of searching for a room, they found one, and rested for the day. Daryl had said that he would be back, that he would go scavenging for food and supplies. Rick had told him that he would along, but then remembered about his children. Carl insisted that Rick went with Daryl, but Rick refused. Daryl went ahead and exited the hotel with weapons and an empty backpack to carry the supplies. Hours later, he had come back with five bottles of water, bruised peaches, baby food and a sock monkey for Judith, diapers, unexpired pudding cups and cans of fruit. Carl, Rick and Daryl split two peaches, hoping that they would last them for a while. Judith, on the other hand, had her usual meal of two cans of baby food with water to wash it down. Judith was a happy baby. Their first week at the hotel went swiftly, and in less than a month, the three of them had gotten rid of all of the Walkers in the hotel.

And then survivors came in.

Wanting more people, they took the survivors in. "Each person we save is one less Walker we have to kill," Rick had mentioned to Daryl, who didn't seem pleased by the fact that more and more people were coming in. In less than a year, their small four-person group had grown to fifty six people in the hotel. Almost all the rooms were full. Other than the very top floor, which was inhabited by Walkers. Somehow, someway, a good amount of Walkers managed to get to the bottom floors, and Rick had led them to the top floor, where Daryl had trapped them. Rick had escaped, of course, through the staircase that was meant for emergencies only. They had locked the doors to the top floor with chains, locks and vending machines, making sure that _nothing _and _no one _got in or out. The top floor is prohibited to anyone and everyone.

* * *

Thirty-one year old Carl Grimes was jogging up the stairs of the hotel, which was lighted with small, two-foot long, hand-made torches that were hung up on the walls. The flames made it easy to see, of course, but occasionally, people would trip over the stairs. Not Carl. Carl knew these stairs like the back of his hand. Heck, Carl could jog up these stairs blind folded if he needed to, and wouldn't even fumble. Carl is an expert scavenger, hunter, and has even learned a few things in the medical and technical field thanks to a few people that have been saved in the hotel. All of that knowledge has been passed down from Carl to Judith, who is now nineteen years old. Still, Carl won't permit Judith to hold a gun, nonetheless a sharp object. Regardless of the fact that Earth is infested by Walkers and every human should know how to protect themselves, Carl can't imagine his little sister carrying something as deadly as a gun. Him, on the other hand, has no problem with it. All of his life, Rick and Carl have tried to get Judith to _not _like weapons. But since they live in a world where weapons are literally needed, they couldn't stop it.

Judith wants to be a part of the team. She wants to go out there are and shoot and scavenge and protect. But Rick, Daryl and Carl won't let her. Instead, she's stuck inside the hotel while those three, including a handful of other trusted allies, go out and scavenge. While they're out scavenging, Judith is in charge of what happens inside the hotel. She takes care of the children, the elderly, and fixes up their rooms. Judith's arms have slight muscle to them, and her calves are built and hard like metal because of all the running she has to do in order to keep up with anything. She's underfed, due to her giving her rations of food to the people who need it.

One day, after dinner, everyone had gathered in the Office, which was just a massive room with tables and chairs scattered everywhere. _Everyone, _as in everybody that stayed at Vivus - which is Latin for _living. _The large room was already packed with people, and they were listening to a Catholic priest who went by the name of Johnathan. He started singing a lively, holy song, and they all sung softly, afraid that the Walkers a few floors up would hear them. In the middle of the song, Judith heard something odd coming from outside. At first, she thought it was just her brain playing tricks on her. Then, she heard it again: gun shots. Judith was closest to the window, and - if she squinted hard enough - she could see the silhouette of a person outside, and he was holding something: a gun. Walkers were coming at him, and Judith could feel her heart pounding in her throat. Not wanting to interrupt the soft orchestra, she weaved through the crowd and made her way to the hall. She ran as fast as she could to the nearest Service Landing, which she used a key to open the door with. It was basically a place where shelves were put up that held towels for employees to stack up their carts. The towels were still there, even after almost twenty years of the building being out of business and rundown. Under the towels, were guns that Rick and Daryl and placed. There were guns placed in the most obvious but secretive places that no one could find.

Judith heard more gun shots.

She exited the Service Landing and locked the door behind her, then took off towards the stairs. Quickly, she ran down them, taking two stairs at a time. After three flights of stairs, she finally got to the basement, where Judith proceeded to hurry to the back doors. The gun shots were closer. Mystery Man was close. Judith put on the impenetrable armor that she'd seen her father and Carl put on a dozen times, and headed out the door with a gun in hand and a knife tucked into one of her belt loops. Judith followed the noise of the gun shots, and then all of a sudden, the gun shots stopped. She thought he had been killed by the Walkers, and the sudden thought hovered over her like a dark cloud. Then, she heard more gun shots. That set her off. She took off towards the gun shots again, behind an alley, and saw Walkers cornering someone. Judith aimed her gun, shot. Missed. Shot again. Head shot. Kept shooting. She saw someone. But they didn't see her. He had moved too quickly to see his savior. He was running from more Walkers that had heard their gun shots.

"HEY!" Judith shouted at the man. He turned around. He was wearing a black bandanna over his mouth, and his face was smeared with dirt and blood. "This way!" She pointed to where the door to Vivus was and he nodded at her as if saying, _okay. _Together, they ran, catching up to each other as they ran for their lives. Judith got to the door, but a Walker tackled her to the ground. Her helmet hit the back of her head too hard and she bit her lip to try and concentrate on the heavy, undead corpse that was trying to bite into her flesh. She grabbed her knife and edged it closer to the Walker. Her arm was stuck and the flailing Walker wasn't making anything easier. Before she knew it, a knife had sliced clean through the middle of the Walker's head, the tip of almost touching Judith's nose. It's blood trickled on her cheek. Mystery Man pulled the Walker off of Judith and helped her up. Judith unlocked the door as fast as she could and the both of them slipped inside Vivus. She locked the door behind them. With a sigh, they pressed their backs on the walls opposite from each other, and slid down until they were sitting. Judith took off her helmet, revealing her chest-length light-brown hair, light skin and gray eyes. Mystery Man was panting desperately for air, and he took off the black bandanna that was covering his mouth and a part of his nose. Mystery Man was attractive, as attractive as a blood-splattered, dirt-covered man could get. He had deep blue eyes and almost-shoulder-length dark hair, almost black. His week-old beard was barely noticeable because of the dirt and blood on his face, regardless of the bandanna.

Judith, wanting to be the alpha, stood up first, extended a hand to Mystery Man, but he didn't take it. He stood up all on his own. "Welcome to Vivus."


	2. Chapter 2

Mystery Man had a name, his name was Logan Keith Parker. Judith had found out once she introduced Mystery Man to Rick. Being the kind man that he is, Rick let him in, but only after he had asked Logan a billion questions. Such as: did you belong to another group? If yes, why were you separated? How many weapons do you have on you? Are you any good at hunting? How about scavenging? How well are you with guns and knives?

After Logan had answered all those questions truthfully, Rick let him go. Which meant that Judith would assign Logan a room until further notice.

"How long are you planning on staying?" Judith asked Logan.

"Don't know," he answered. He winced with each step he took, and Judith noticed. When she reached room number 248, she jammed the key in the keyhole and unlocked the door. Logan entered the room, throwing his massive backpack to the side and practically throwing himself on the mattress.

"You look like you're in pain," Judith mentioned. "Were you . . . bit?"

Logan looked at her as if she had four heads and an extra pair of eyes. "What? Hell no! I just got cut up by those old boxes. My legs are sore."

"Then you wouldn't mind letting me look at it?"

He looked at her for a while, looking into her gray eyes. Logan was grateful that these people had taken them in, but he had major trust issues. He trusted no one. Not even himself, at times. He didn't want some stranger looking at his aching body or touching it. In a way, he was a wuss about this, because he didn't want any physical contact with her or anyone. "Sure." He rolled up his pant leg to reveal his hairy, dirty, bloody leg.

Judith bit her lip. Although she was used to seeing blood and all-things gory, she still got a bit squeamish when it came to blood. "You're gonna have to take a shower and after your shower I'll be back to clean up your wounds."

"No it's f-"

"You wouldn't want to get an infection and . . ya know . . _die, _right?"

Logan just stared at her.

"You have an hour to shower and get your things unpacked, okay? I'll be back with my First Aid kit to help you with that." Judith spun on her heel to walk out of room 348, but then turned around, walking back Logan. She extended her hand towards him. "Oh, and I'm Judith. Judith Grimes." Logan took her hand and shook it. Judith noticed how young he looked under that layer of dirt and blood. He only looked older because of the facial hair that was growing in.

"It's nice to meet you, Judith," Logan said nonchalantly. "And thanks for, you know, saving my ass out there."

* * *

Judith knocked on the door of room 348, and moments later, the door opened just a tad by Logan just far enough to cover his chest and the rest of his body. He was covering himself with the door. His hair was dripping with water and he looked even more attractive than Judith had thought. He invited Judith inside, told her to wait in the bedroom, and took a sharp turn into the bathroom. Logan was only wearing boxers. Nothing more. Nothing less. Judith sat at the edge of the bed, with her back facing the bathroom. After a few minutes of waiting, Logan came out, his hair suddenly shorter, and dryer. He had cut his hair short enough to where it barely went over his ears.

"Sorry I took so long," Logan apologized. "I was cutting my hair."

"I can tell," Judith said. "Now, sit down and swing your leg over the side of the bed. I put a towel down just so your blood won't go everywhere." Logan gave her a puzzled, yet startled look. "I'm just kidding, I won't screw up your leg." Logan sat down, swinging his leg on the mattress and Judith examined it. There were cuts and a small gash on his calf. "The cut on the back of your leg isn't that bed, so you won't need stitches. I'll clean your wounds up and wrap them in bandages and gauze and in a few days I'll come back to check on them."

"You're, like, the doctor, or nurse of this place?"

"No, I'm just the sheriff's daughter. There's a doctor in this building, though. He's busy taking care of a few sick people."

Judith noticed his backpack was empty, tossed to the side of the room. Used candles were placed on his night stand, used for light if he needed to get around his room at night. There were no matches, Judith noticed that. _Note to self, _she thought. _Get Logan some matches for his candles. _

"I'm surprised this place's plumbing actually works."

"Yeah," she said softly, getting out gauze, bandages, cotton balls and rubbing alcohol. "It took a long time. Dad said I was five years old when they finally got the plumbing to work. There's a plumber here, too. He's old, and he's writing down everything he knows about plumbing in a book. Ya know, just in case he dies or something, we'll still have his work and it'll come in handy one day."

"Does everyone do that?"

Judith nodded, damping a cotton ball with rubbing alcohol. "Whatever we know, we write it down in books and label them on the front cover with paint or marker or what ever we find. Okay, now grab that blanket and bite it cause this is going to hurt." Before Logan could even grab the blanket, Judith had put the cotton ball on his wounds, gently dabbing them. Logan winced and groaned in pain. He grabbed the covers and stuffed it in his mouth. "What a baby," Judith murmured with a sly smirk.

"Oh, really? How about you try being in my posi- OUCH DAMMIT YOU DID THAT ON PURPOSE!" That made Judith jump, the sudden outburst of his voice. He saw the panic in her eyes and shook his head. "Just . . be more gentle."

"You think I'm actually trying to cause you pain? It isn't my fault you were clumsy enough to get these many cuts on _one _leg. The rest of your body is fine, I suppose. Right?"

Logan nodded, wincing at the rubbing alcohol seeping into his open wounds.

"You sure you weren't bit? Or scratched? If you were, we won't kill you, unless you want us to. We'll just keep you in a room by yourself, still feed you, still take care of you, until you die. Once we know you're one-hundred-percent gone, we'll put a bullet through your head. You won't feel a thing." Logan kept looking at Judith, his mind blank. He was just simply staring at her. "It's the humane thing to do."

"I wasn't bit. Or scratched."

"Just to be safe, don't leave this room. If you feel dizzy, and if you feel sick or really weak all of a sudden, just call me up, okay? I'm a few rooms down the hall: room 362. I'm on the west side of this floor. The room you're staying in is on the south side. There's no east side."

"You have the hotel memorized, huh?"

"Well, I've lived here for nineteen years. Can you raise your leg a little bit? I'm about to wrap it in bandages."

Logan's eyes widened as he lifted his leg a few inches off the bed. "Nineteen years? There haven't been any problems? Like, herds or anything?" Judith wrapped the bandages around his leg and taped gauze to some smaller wounds on his knee. "I can't even keep my group together for a week without someone dying," Logan muttered. Judith had stopped moving and gazed at him. His face stayed expressionless, but his eyes reflected despair, sadness, and other emotions that she couldn't fathom into words.

"There have been close calls, and definitely some times that we thought Walkers were going to somehow find a way in the hotel. But we have very good people that know how to guard this place. Hell, even little old Granny Ann knows how to use a gun. She's one of the oldest people here. You'll see her around outside fixing the garden and such. She's such a cute little old lady." Judith finished the taping of the bandages and gauze and started packing the remaining of the thing sin the First Aid kit.

"Thanks," Logan said expressionless.

"No problem."

"I'm not just talking about my leg. I'm talking about saving my ass out there. If it wasn't for you I'd be in some undead cannibal's stomach like the rest of my . . . ." Logan stopped mid-sentenced and faked a gentle smile without showing his teeth. "Thanks."

Judith nodded, feeling the guilt and grief coming from Logan, and headed to the door. She said, "goodnight," shut the door, and proceeded to go into the Service Landing of that floor, putting the First Aid kit in an old, plastic crate along with some other kits, and dug through the carts that maids used and found some matches. She took a small pack of matches and headed back to Logan's room. Judith was about to knock on the door, but stopped midway, hearing the silent sobs of Logan. She felt her heart sink. She hated hearing people cry. Judith was naturally a sensitive, passionate person, and she hates seeing people in misery.

Judith slipped the pack of matches under the door and walked to her room, only to hear the sounds of two people moaning. _What the hell? _She thought to herself. _Carl, ew! Not again! _

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**Let me know how I'm doing by reviewing this chapter! And if you have ANY ideas at all, then just let me know! I honestly don't know what's going to happen in this story, I'm just wingin' it. REVIEW!**


	3. Chapter 3

"I didn't know you were coming back so early," Carl said to Judith.

"You forgot I wasn't on garden shift, didn't you? I don't care if you and Maria have sex, but _not. In. My. Room. _Now I have to clean the sheets, thanks!" She commented. Judith murmured, "sometimes _I _feel like the older sibling around here."

"Sorry, Ju."

"It's whatever. Just . . . take off the sheets. And tell Maria to keep out of my room, will you?"

Carl said nothing, he just proceeded to take off the sheets from Judith's bed, and tossed them in the laundry basket. "Tomorrow's laundry day," he added, to clear up the awkward vibe in the air. "It's gonna be hectic."

"Yep," is all she said to him. Judith wasn't mad at him. She was just irritated with everything. How Carl, Daryl, and Rick go out scavenging while Judith stays at the hotel looking after everyone. She doesn't mind, she loves everyone at Vivus. But Rick and Daryl are getting old. Too old to be running around out there. They aren't as fast and stealthy as they used to be. Hell, Rick has asthma now and has to be real careful. Daryl has arthritis in his knees. Judith doesn't understand why they don't just tag her along. She's a lot faster than they are. Secretly, she has a gun. Buried in her closet in an old box under racks of clothing. "Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"Why won't Dad let me tag along on your scavenging trips?"

Carl looked at his sister, grabbing hold of new, clean sheets. "We've been over this before, Judith."

"Yeah, like, last year. Answer it for me."

"Dad doesn't want you going out scavenging with us because . . . um . . you're a girl, and y-"

"SEXIST!" she blurted.

"No! That's not it! Dad doesn't want you coming with us because you're a girl and Dad doesn't want to lose you, okay?" Carl exclaimed, almost yelling. "Ever since Mom died, he's been protecting you with his life! He loves you and he doesn't want you to end up like the others!"

Judith couldn't make words.

"It isn't just that . . ." Carl's voice was gentle now. "Before Mom died, she told me to take care of you, to protect you with my life. You know what happened after that? She died. In my arms. I didn't want her to turn, so I shot her in the head."

"I didn't know that . . ." Judith's eyes were watery, threatening to cry. "Dad told me Mom died at the prison trying to save me."

"She did. You don't know her, but a woman named Maggie was there, and she cut Mom open to take you out. Mom didn't want to lose you, so she had Maggie cut her open. No pain killers, no nothing. Mom knew she was going to die, but she didn't care. We don't want anything to happen to you, Judith."  


* * *

Logan swung his legs over the side of his bed, stretching his arms up in the air and sighing deeply. It was hot, and his room had no air conditioning - like all of the rooms at Vivus - so he slept without a blanket. Logan was real careful with his wounded leg, still throbbing and aching from the day before. He got up, opened the blinds just a bit, to see the blinding rays of the sun shining down on the dozens of Walkers that were outside. Logan continued to look down at the Walkers, and wondered how in the hell these people could've survived in this hotel for over nineteen years. Must've been a miracle, he thought. Or just pure luck for them to be alive. He turned towards the bedside table and read the clock. The hand that counted the seconds wasn't moving. Life would forever be stuck at 3:26 p.m.

_Knock knock. _

Logan's heart almost sprang from his chest. "Coming!" He limped to the door and unlocked it. Was it then that he realized he wasn't wearing anything but his boxer shorts. It was Judith. She was wearing khaki shorts, a black tank top and a pair of combat boots that needed some serious cleaning. Her light-brown hair was braided to the side and she was holding crutches.

"Crutches?" Logan asked.

Judith nodded, gesturing towards his bare legs. "You'll need these so you won't put so much pressure on your leg." Logan took the crutches, saying his thanks. She added, "Would you like breakfast? The Scavengers brought fresh fruit in, and our apple trees are already blossoming, so we're eating like royalty today."

"Mmmm, sounds good!"

"I could bring it up to you if you'd like. You need to rest your legs."

"I appreciate the offer, but I'm not paralyzed from the waist down. I can get it myself."

"You're not paralyzed, you're temporarily crippled. You wouldn't want that gash to open up, would you?"

Logan said nothing.

"I'll be back in five minutes." With that, Judith left, and Logan couldn't help but watch her as she jogged away, her braid swinging from side to side. Logan shut the door to his room, and waited for his breakfast. In less than twenty minutes, Judith was back at the door, holding a bowl containing two apples, two bananas and an orange. Logan was now wearing his gray t-shirt, and a pair of cargo shorts he had stashed along in his bag. "Careful with the orange," she warned. "If you peel it wrong, it's acid might burn you. I've seen it happen to someone else. Wasn't so pretty."

Logan chuckled. "I bet!" He looked at the fruits and then at Judith. She was holding an apple of her own. She had already bitten a chunk out of it. "Where's your breakfast? Ya know, other than that apple?"

"This _is _my breakfast."

"You're kidding, right? Your stomach's gonna eat itself by the time lunch rolls in."

"I reduce the rations of food I get so I can give it to the others. As cliche as that sounds, I like helping others. And the family I'm helping out this week really needs the food."

"It's bad to starve yourself."

"But it's good to help others."

"How are you supposed to help others when you're dead."

Judith felt as if there was a lump in the back of her hurt. She swallowed hard. "That, uh, escalated quickly."

"I'm serious, though. You can't starve yourself. Give them, like, half of your rations, that's reasonable. But when you give them more than ninety percent of your food? That's ridiculous."

"The Stevens family is dying, Logan!" Judith exclaimed, now furious. "I've seen too many people because they can't eat, or they wandered off and were bitten, and came back and died because of the disease. I'd like to reduce the amount of casualties in Vivus, and if that simply means I should give the food I have to the sick, then dammit, I'll do it. I don't want to see anyone else die."

Logan bit his lip, now speechless. He looked down at the bowl of fruit, leaned his crutches against the wall and, with his now free hands, grabbed an apple, a banana and looked at Judith. "There," he said. "I have my breakfast, and you have yours. Enjoy."

* * *

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**This chapter wasn't action-filled but the fun parts are coming, my lovelies c:**


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Walking Dead, Adventure, Romance